Self-Doubt
by Sobeys
Summary: Sara and Governor Tancredi never had the greatest relationship. One-shot.


When Michael entered his home at 7:30 on Wednesday evening, it was quiet. The lights were off, except for the front hallway, which led Michael to believe that Sara had gone to bed early. She always made sure to leave a light on because of his fear of the dark, something he'd had ever since one of his foster fathers had kept him locked in a dark laundry room. He also slept with a night light sometimes, although Sara's presence was often enough to make him feel safe with the lights off; it was only when he had nightmares that he would sleep with it on.

Swapping his dress shoes for a pair of slippers, Michael went into the kitchen, drank a glass of water and grabbed a granola bar from a cupboard before making his way upstairs to check on his wife. With the exception of a lamp in the hallway, all of the lights were off. Michael started towards their bedroom but then stopped and listened. He heard sniffling coming from inside the room. Moving the last few steps, Michael quietly opened the door, the hall light bringing some brightness into the bedroom, illuminating a shaking lump under the blankets. At the sudden brightness, Sara lifted the blankets further up, shielding herself from the light.

"Michael, is that you?" By the sound of her voice, it was apparent that she had been crying.

"Sara" Michael asked, coming towards the bed. He turned on his bedside lamp so he could see more clearly, and he gently pulled the blankets away from Sara's face. His heart physically hurt when he saw her puffy red eyes staring sadly at him, fresh tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. She looked broken. "What happened? Are you in pain?"

Sara shook her head, getting up in bed and falling into Michael's open arms, sobbing as she buried her head in his neck.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here." Michael soothed, rubbing his hand up and down her back. His other hand smoothed her hair, moving it out of her face, the front locks moist with tears, a sign that she had been crying for awhile. After a few minutes of trying to calm her down, Michael pulled away so he could look at her face. Wiping her tear-stained cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, he asked, "What happened?"

Sara grasped one of his hands, holding it tight. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be this upset, I just. I'm sorry."

"Sara, please talk to me," Michael pleaded. "What's going on?"

"I-I went to a restaurant on my lunch break." Sara took a gasping breath, trying to calm herself. "With - With Katie and a few others. And I saw my dad sitting at the table across from ours. And I tried to-" Sara covered her face with her hands, trying and failing to hold back a sob that wracked her throat. Michael continued to rub her back with the hand that wasn't tightly grasped in hers, letting her take her time.

"I'm sorry, I just...I tried to leave without him noticing but he saw me before I could. He came over to our table and started asking me about my life. And he just...he has this way of-of making every decision I make look like a mistake. And I just can't...I couldn't handle it. He made it sound like everything I've done was wrong. He has no idea what I've been through, what _we've_ been through," Sara said angrily, breathing deeply as she leaned her head into Michael's chest. "And I know I shouldn't let him get to me; I should be used to it, after all. But I'm not. And he just makes me so damn angry and confused, and I can't help but feel like I've let him down, which shouldn't bother me nearly as much as it does considering how much he's let me down. God, I feel so stupid."

Michael's heart broke as he listened to her words but when he heard the last part, a surge of anger towards his father-in-law coursed through him. Gently pulling Sara away from him, he caressed her cheeks with his hands, holding her face inches away from his. "Listen to me very carefully. You're not stupid, not in the slightest bit. You've been through hell and back, and if it weren't for you, a lot of people wouldn't be alive today. Lincoln would be dead, and I probably would be too. You helped take down the biggest threat to our country and your father should be proud of you. I know I am." Michael smiled, wiping his wife's tears. "Sara Tancredi, you are the strongest, bravest, most compassionate woman I have ever met. And I am so lucky to call you my wife. Your father should be grateful to have a daughter as amazing as you and if he doesn't see that, it's his loss, not yours, understand?"

Although it was clear that she wasn't entirely convinced, she nodded and kissed him, whispering a "thank you" against his lips.

When they pulled apart, Michael grabbed a tissue from his night table and wiped Sara's tears before kissing her forehead. Looking into her eyes, he said "I mean it."

Sara nodded, giving him a watery smile. She sniffled and then got up, going over to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. When she returned, she looked a little calmer and she climbed back into bed, curling up into Michael's side, his arm coming around to hold her close. She was still upset about her father, that much was obvious. And, although Michael may not have been aware of it, a small part of her still believed that maybe there was some truth to her father's words, that she was a screw up. But right now, with Michael's arms around her and her head buried snugly into his neck, that small part of her quieted down and let the other part of her, the part that knew her past actions are what led her to becoming what she is today; happy.


End file.
